


Unfathomable Filth

by Hana_Noiazei (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2p!DenNor, AmeTai, BelMon, DenNed, DenNor, EstFin, Fluff, KorIce, Multi, PWP, Smut, SuFin, SuNor, all the smut you can think of, it's here, lots of smut, nyo!dennor, smut without structure, there's a ton of stuff here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 12,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Hana_Noiazei
Summary: One word: smut.





	1. The Dead of Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a compilation of all the smut I've written from requests on Tumblr. None of it is SFW. You have now been warned.

Stupid debate team. 

Stupid competition, overrunning a whole two hours and making him get home when the sky’s dark and his brain feels like it’s been deep-fried. They didn’t even win!

And he’s stuck in this suit that’s too big for him with shoes that pinch his toes and a bag stuffed with notes and cue cards, which he has to stick his entire arm in just to get his keys from. 

Stellan unlocks the door and kicks it open, tossing his bag onto the ground with a groan. The lights are off and the apartment is dead silent, meaning that his boyfriend should be asleep. 

He closes the door behind him and locks it, turning around only to be pinned to the door and smothered in a kiss.

_Oh. Henrik’s awake._

Starting to kiss back, Stellan’s eyes flutter shut as Henrik nips at his bottom lip. He complies, letting him deepen the kiss and tilting his head with a sigh.

Henrik releases one of Stellan’s hands to unbutton his jacket and let it drop to the ground, pulling away from the kiss to bite at his neck.

Trying desperately to focus, he huffs and kicks his jacket away. “Can I at least take my shoes off before you pounce on me?”

He kisses the newest mark on Stellan’s neck, smiling. “You’ll have to deliver a more compelling argument than that.”

“Fine.” Stifling a moan as Henrik moves on to his collarbone, Stellan gestures feebly to his bag of notes. “This house would allow Stellan to change into more comfortable clothes and take a shower before his boyfriend fucks him into their bed.”

Reluctantly pulling away, Henrik gives Stellan a quick peck on the lips before heading back to their bedroom. “All right. Go recover from your competition and I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”


	2. Behind Locked Doors

Tomorrow is a weekend, thank goodness, and Harald is safely in bed and asleep. Stellan closes Harald’s bedroom door and stumbles forward when Henrik roughly pushes him into their bedroom.

He turns around when he hears the lock click, feeling his face heat up at the sight of Henrik’s smile. “If you wake Harald up,” Stellan warns, “you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

Henrik doesn’t reply, grabbing Stellan by the waist and pushing him onto their bed, only for him to pull Henrik down with him and scramble out nimbly, perching on his back with a smirk.

Stellan bends down to kiss the nape of Henrik’s neck, trying to quell his rushing emotions as Henrik groans and turns on his back, gazing at him with pure lust in his eyes. “Stell…” 

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” Stellan purrs, nibbling at Henrik’s ear, “and you’ll be saying it many more times tonight.”


	3. Reassurance

Fucking Abel.

How dare he work him half to death like he’s some sort of dog, then yell at him for an hour about “not putting in effort”? How dare he laugh when Henrik talks about his Stellan, as if he pities his boyfriend for being with him? _He doesn’t know a damn thing about us! _Henrik thinks furiously. He fumbles with his key, unlocking the door with near-shaking hands and pushing it open.

Henrik puts his bag down with a sigh, ignoring how Stellan looks at him worriedly from his spot at the dining table and walking to their bedroom. He closes the door quietly and falls back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The door creaks open a few minutes later, and Stellan jumps onto the bed and on top of Henrik, straddling him as he bends down to kiss him.

He closes his eyes, groaning as his boyfriend swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and deepens the kiss. Stellan’s hand wanders from his waist down to his hip, and he gives it a pinch when they pull away. “Did you have a bad day?”

Stellan makes quick work of his shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it onto the floor as he nods. “Abel pities you, apparently, for ‘being forced to live with someone so incompetent’.” He feels Stellan bite at his neck and arches upwards with a sigh. “Luckily I have you to cheer me up.”

With a crooked smile on his face, Stellan unbuckles Henrik’s belt and kisses him again. “I’m going to help you forget that asshole, okay?”

…

Lying languidly on Henrik’s chest, Stellan idly traces circles on his collarbone and smiles up at him lazily. “Feeling better?”

Henrik traces one finger up Stellan’s spine and watches as his eyes flutter shut in delight. “Definitely.”


	4. Chatter

“So Berwald was talking about Tino, as usual, and then he was all like, ‘I finally managed to beat him in chess’, because apparently Tino’s really good at chess, then I went, ‘are you better than me, though?’ then I challenged him to a game of chess because we all know I’m the best at chess, then I lost! Can you believe I actually lost to Ber in a game of chess?”

Flipping to the next page of his book, Stellan does his best to drown out Henrik’s blabbering. As Henrik continues to narrate his epic loss against Berwald in great detail, he drops down in the chair next to him, poking him in the face while his tale-telling continues. “Hey, Stell, you listening?”

He nods idly, leaning away a little to escape Henrik’s jabbing finger.

“Yeah, awesome, so after I lost, it turned out that Abel, the asshole, was filming the thing the entire time, and oh my goodness, now there’s my horrific defeat against him on film! Can you believe it, Stell? Abel’s probably going to post that video on YouTube or something, then my reputation will be ruined! What am I going to - “

Stellan grabs his boyfriend by the collar and pulls him into a kiss, sharply nipping his bottom lip and groaning into Henrik’s mouth. His eyes flutter closed as tongues twine and he pulls away suddenly, smiling at the sight of Henrik leaning forward, greedy for his touch. 

“You know,” Henrik quips, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, “I should ramble more if this is what I get.”

Gently pushing Henrik to his knees, Stellan runs a thumb over his lip and uses the other hand to unzip his pants. “Let’s put that mouth to good use, now.”

Henrik’s eyes flash with lust as he leans forward, kissing Stellan’s thigh as he murmurs, “oh, I’ll do my best.”


	5. Stare

“Look at you,” Tino breathes, tilting his head, “going insane with nothing but a stare. I bet you’ll be a wreck when I get my hands on you, hmm?”

He can’t help it, looking at Tino’s bright smile and hooded eyes, promising him a night he’ll never forget. Berwald shifts against the headboard, feeling the sheets move under him. 

Tino pulls him in for another kiss, biting at his lips and laughing a little when he hears Berwald groan in response. “I’m going to watch you come undone tonight, and neither of us are going to forget about it.” He lowers his head, nipping Berwald’s jaw and moving to mark up his neck.

Berwald feels himself grow needier and needier as Tino makes his way down to his collarbone, throwing his head back and grasping at the sheets. His lips part to make way for a quiet moan and he gasps quietly, silently pleading for more.

“You want me, don’t you?” Tino’s hands travel down to pinch at his chest, pressing a thumb down on his sternum. “You want me to take you until you can’t stop screaming my name.”

“Yes,” Berwald gasps.

Hands continuing to wander down and hold on to his hips, Tino smiles apologetically. “Well, too bad. I just need one little favour from you.”

“_Anything._”

The smile grows positively malicious as Tino dips his head to whisper in Berwald’s ear, and purrs, “let me watch you touch yourself.”

Keeping his eyes on Tino, Berwald lets him guide his hand down, gasping as waves of pleasure shoot through him.

“That’s it.” Tino continues to say, peppering kisses on Berwald’s neck, “keep going. Once you’re almost there, I’ll take your hand’s place.”


	6. Wreck

Oh, _ damn_.

Maren never thought Linnea could look so wrecked, all wide eyes and shaking knees and downcast gaze. When Maren looks at her again, dramatically scanning her up and down, Linnea even turns away.

And so Maren approaches her girlfriend, pinning her to the wall as she kisses her. She gently nudges her legs apart, smiling as Linnea starts to tremble again. 

Linnea gasps as Maren bites at her neck, scoring teeth over that one spot she knows all too well drives Linnea insane. She wants to say something, Maren can tell, but before the words can escape she moans, arching into Maren and baring her throat.

With another nip to her collarbone, Maren drops to her knees with a curt order of “don’t you dare move.” She kisses Linnea’s thigh, lifts up the hem of her skirt and grins. “No panties, baby girl?”

No answer.

“Well, if you insist then.” Maren takes one last look at her, ravished and needy, before she leans in and starts trying to make Linnea’s moans to turn to screams.


	7. Strip

He’s just there on the sofa, holding his sketchbook and pencil, glaring at a blank page like it’s personally offending him. Stellan puts down his phone and makes his way towards Berwald, lingering in front of him and staring.

He lowers his sketchbook slightly. “Hmm?”

Silent, he inches a little closer, their knees bumping together. 

“What is it, Stellan?” Berwald puts down his pencil and eyes Stellan. 

Still quiet, Stellan drops himself on Berwald’s lap and tugs at the collar of his shirt. He hooks his arms around his neck, pulling Berwald down for a kiss.

When they pull away, Stellan’s blushing, struggling to hold up his façade as he orders, “strip.”

Teasingly unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, Berwald’s hand moves to cup Stellan’s backside. “Just ‘strip’?”

Stellan grits his teeth, grinding down on Berwald’s hand. “_Please_.”

Berwald tightens his grip and uses his other hand to pull his shirt off his head, kissing Stellan again as his hand works on his belt. “That’s more like it.”


	8. Firearm

_Oh._

He sees the bulge, as clear as day as Henrik bounds into the bedroom with a smile. Stellan props himself up on the bed and arches his back lazily, eyeing Henrik. “Welcome home.”

“Hey, what’s the occasion?” Henrik runs a finger down his spine, poking the small of his back. “You’re not always this flirtatious.”

“Say, Henrik,” Stellan tilts his head and peers at him again. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Henrik looks down at his pants. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pistol, tossing it onto his desk with a clunk. “I was passing through a shady part of town so I decided to bring this along.”

Stellan does his best not to sound disappointed, rolling over and stretching. “So I guess you’re not in the mood right now?”

“Hey, I never said that.” Tossing his jacket away, Henrik crawls onto the bed and pins him down. “Come on, work hasn’t tired me out completely.”


	9. Control

Of course, Henrik had the good idea to let Stellan take charge, for just one night. But he can tell, by the way Henrik looks at him with darkened eyes and a malicious smile, that he’s still the one in control, the one pulling all the strings.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Henrik teases, tracing a finger up Stellan’s thigh, “too nervous? If you want, we could switch, and I’d have you screaming and begging until you can’t even move.”

“N-No.” Extending one shaking hand to grab Henrik by his hair, Stellan pulls him closer. “I can do this.”

For a split second, Henrik’s expression softens. “Are you all right? You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’ll use the safe word if I need to,” Stellan replies, “now…”

Henrik’s smile returns, and he bites Stellan’s inner thigh, chuckling against his skin as he gasps. “Take your time, okay? We’ve got all night.”

Stellan tightens his grip, wavering for only a moment. “I’m not going to have to suck myself off, am I?”

“Of course not.” Henrik tilts his head. “Let me help you with that.”


	10. All Day

When Aleksander knocks on his door, Stellan almost has a heart attack.

Biting in the moans threatening to let loose, he calls out a calm, “come in!” and hopes that he doesn’t sound too ravished.

“Hey, can you take a look at these?” His co-worker places a stack of papers on his desk. “I just finished writing the script for our next movie, and Arthur’s working on the songs.”

“S-Sure.” He takes the stack, feeling so dreadfully exposed, and does his best to smile. 

“Thanks, Stellan.” And Aleksander leaves the room, leaving Stellan wrecked, needy and about ready to jump Henrik when he gets home. He opens up his laptop, reaches for his headphones…

Only for the plug to start vibrating.

He gasps, curling up and trembling from the vibrations rippling through him. Stellan’s phone decides to ring, and he picks it up, realising with a jolt that Henrik’s calling him.

“Hey, darling.” Henrik’s voice drips with smoke and honey, downright taunting him. “How do you feel?”

The plug starts vibrating more.

“I - “ Stellan’s breath hitches. “I’m fine, Henrik. Thanks for - thanks for calling.”

“Are you having fun with the plug?” He teases, “I bet you’re whimpering at your desk, thinking about me inside you instead of that.”

He answers, predictably, with a moan.

“I see. I hope you have fun, Stell.” Henrik laughs a little, tormenting and oh-so-lovely. “When you get home, I’ll make sure you’re nice and satisfied.”

And he hangs up.

Covering his mouth with one hand, Stellan turns back to his work and prays for the day to be over soon.

…

Being an asshole, Henrik sets the plug to turn on again when Stellan gets off the bus, walking home with trembling knees and his eyes already glazed with pleasure. He knocks on the door weakly and bites back some embarrassing noises.

Before he knows it, he’s in the living room, clothes on the floor and Henrik’s fingers teasingly tracing the smooth bottom of the plug. “How was your day at work?”

“T-Terrible,” he manages to say, “I squeaked in the middle of a meeting, because you decided to increase the speed.”

He laughs, running a hand down Stellan’s chest and pinching. “Aww, I’m sorry. Maybe this will make up for that.” Henrik pulls out his phone and fiddles with something on his screen. “Give me a moment…”

Falling to the floor on his knees, Stellan whimpers as the plug goes on full power, twitching and feeling himself go insane. “Henrik!”

Picking him up in one swift move, Henrik carries Stellan into the bedroom, gently setting his squirming, whining lover on the bed. He watches as Stellan leans against the headboard, grinding himself on the sheets and breathing quickly. “Look at you,” he coos, “All ready for me to fuck you senseless.”

“Please, Henrik,” Stellan gasps, a single desperate tear running down his cheek, “just - just turn it off!”

“Well, if you insist.” Henrik pulls out the dripping plug, making him slump and close his eyes. He inspects the plug, then looks at Stellan, leaking and so, so ready. “So needy already? You’ll enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”


	11. Underneath

His hands are gripping his hair, fingers curled in his locks as Stellan busies himself. Henrik shifts, quietly and barely moving, even as Stellan feels himself getting turned on.

The distant voices from above the table tell him the waiter’s there, and Henrik’s about to order for them. Scooching forward on his knees, Stellan hums quietly, poking with his tongue and sending quiet vibrations through Henrik.

Then Henrik’s grip tightens and he stops his humming, slumping down a little and twirling his tongue around. Above him, Henrik hisses, muttering curses under his breath as Stellan gently nips him. “Fuck, Stell, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away, licking his lips, and kisses him, murmuring against his hardness, “why, thank you.” And he takes Henrik into his mouth again, takes so much of him that his cheeks brush Henrik’s thigh, and drinks in his groans.

When he scores his teeth gently over Henrik’s sensitive skin, though, he feels Henrik grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up, the tablecloth brushing over his forehead as Stellan’s pulled up to sit in Henrik’s lap.

Zipping his pants shut, Henrik bites at Stellan’s neck. “Once we get home,” he breathes, “you’re going to pay for being such a tease.”


	12. First

He doesn’t know how Henrik does it, how just one fleeting touch of his hands can make him melt. So when his lover gently nudges his legs apart, running his fingers up and down his inner thighs, Stellan finds himself just about ready to fall apart. “How,” he whispers, “do you know what to do?”

Looking up from trailing kisses down his navel, Henrik smiles cheekily, gently pinching Stellan’s bottom. “Let’s say I found some books in the library.” He presses a thumb to Stellan’s palm, connecting their lips again.

Arching up into him, Stellan holds on to Henrik’s hand as their fingers entwine, breath hitching. He feels his lips gently brushing over already-there marks, his hand brushing over his chest and his knee keeping his legs apart -_ everywhere_.

Henrik reaches for the bottle of oil on their bedside table, shakily opening it with one hand. “Tell me if it hurts,” he says, “I don’t want to mess up our first time.”

Stellan gasps when he feels one finger press inside, slowly breaching him, bit by bit as he stiffens.

“M-Maybe you can close your eyes,” Henrik murmurs, gently moving the finger up and down. “The books say that’ll help.”

With a firm hand on his hip, he adds a second finger. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” Stellan winces.

He scissors his fingers and nibbles Stellan’s ear, whispering, “focus on my voice. I’ll have you prepared soon, and we’ll have fun.”

“Oh.” When Henrik’s third finger slips inside, Stellan’s eyes fly open and he reaches out one hand to loop around his neck, rolling his hips slightly. “That - That feels good, Henrik.”

He pulls his fingers out, reaching for the oil again and slicking himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Mmhmm.”

Nipping gently at Stellan’s lower lip, Henrik props him up against the headboard and kisses him. “All right, then.”

When Henrik begins pushing inside, Stellan gasps, a strangled half-cry as he feels the stretch of his lover inside him. Henrik leans down to kiss his cheeks, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head, heat flooding his stomach. “You can go deeper.”

And he does, leaning down to claim Stellan’s lips as their two souls unite, the overwhelming tide of ecstasy and pleasure washing over them as Henrik enters him so deeply that their hips touch. “Can - can I start moving?”

Already on the edge and drowsy with bliss, Stellan nods. When Henrik peppers kisses across his neck, their hands still entwined, he begins to feel lighter, slowly growing weightless as euphoria overtakes him. Almost embarrassingly, he moans, reaching up wordlessly to bring Henrik down for a kiss.

“No, you don’t need to do anything.” Henrik pushes his hand away, pressing it to their cool sheets as he shifts and continues moving. “Just lay back and let me take care of you, all right?”

It feels amazingly rapturous, being able to be so close to Henrik. Stellan arches his back and his breath hitches when Henrik gets closer, chest heaving and body filling with ebullience. His toes curl and he tosses his head, frenzied in his pleasure.

Henrik touches his lips to the skin over his heart, murmuring in delirium as he finally finds the deepest, most intimate part of Stellan. He sighs, closing his eyes in beatitude as he finally tumbles out of control.

Stellan reaches his limits mere moments later, slumping down against the sheets and fatigue almost instantly replacing his exhilaration. When Henrik pulls out and collapses next to him, wrapping arms around his waist, he yawns sleepily, “the maids are going to be very disturbed when they see our sheets tomorrow.”

Resting his forehead against the top of Stellan’s head, Henrik replies, “we can deal with that tomorrow. For now,” he kisses him chastely on the forehead, “I want to spend the entire night with you.”


	13. Seven

The first day’s easy, simply with him perched on top of Berwald and moving, gently and slowly, like they always do - nothing new. Day two’s not complicated either. Tino gets a pair of ropes and binds his lover’s hands to the headboard, teasing and teasing until he finally gets Berwald to moan.

The third day, Tino ties a strip of cloth around Berwald’s eyes, spending a good few moments just telling him all the things he’ll do to him. Day four, he slips a vibrator inside him, holding it against him and watching him writhe against his binds, climaxing once, twice, thrice, four times before Tino finally takes pity on him.

On the fifth day, he keeps a ring around Berwald, leaving that and a vibrator on while he nonchalantly reading. Tino drinks in his pleading until he finishes his book. The day after that, he takes a massager, running it over his neck, his chest, dipping down to his thighs, enjoying the low hum of the device combining with Berwald’s quiet sighs.

And on the seventh day, one day before his birthday, Tino finds himself tugging on a leash, looking at Berwald on his knees and absolutely spellbound. He reaches out to hook a finger under the navy-blue collar tied around Berwald’s neck and smiles, connecting their lips and stealing the breath right from his lungs. “

What a lovely birthday present,” he teases, “I can’t wait to unwrap you.”

...

Curled up and biting at the loosened collar, Tino nibbles on Berwald’s neck, blissed out and exhausted. “Thank you,” he sighs, “for the best week in my life.”

He kisses Tino chastely on the forehead. “Happy birthday, Tino.”


	14. Volume

It’s amazing, how Stellan can be tied to the bed and taken mercilessly, and still be so _stoic_. Henrik looks at him, pretty lips bitten and slightly parted, purple bruises littering his pristine porcelain skin, thighs slick and shaking.

He puts a finger between Stellan’s legs and runs it down the underside of his hardness, enjoying how he breathes in sharply, all of a sudden alert again. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Stellan mumbles, arching his hips up. When Henrik slips his fingers inside him, nimbly moving them, he gasps and struggles against the ropes, trying to escape Henrik’s fingers and their delicious torment.

“Come on, angel,” Henrik goads, sucking at the hollow of Stellan’s throat, “I know you can be louder than that.” He kisses him between his legs, licks a long trail up his thighs and bites at his chest. 

Still, all he gets from Stellan is a quiet keen.

He sighs in mock disappointment and removes his fingers. “Being stubborn, aren’t you?” Henrik reaches for his bedside table and grabs the vibrator. “Looks like I’ll have to resort to extreme measures.” Grabbing a handful of Stellan’s hair, he lifts his head up slightly and whispers, right next to where his blindfold’s tied, “if you need to, use the code or the safe word, okay?”

When he’s met with silence, Henrik picks up the vibrator, prepares it and slips it into Stellan, enjoying how he squeaks when it slides inside. He adjusts the switch and puts it on full speed, holding it inside. “There we go. I wonder, Stell...” he pushes it in deeper. “How long will it take for you to fall apart?”

A few minutes in, Stellan begins to writhe against his restraints, whimpering and twisting. When Henrik adjusts the position of the vibrator, he stiffens, lips parted in a silent scream. 

“That’s right.” He pinches Stellan, dangerously low. “Keeping making those beautiful noises for me, darling.”

He holds the little device in until his hand grows numb, drinking in Stellan’s moans, slowly growing in volume and desperation until he starts pleading, voice strained and thin, “please, please, Henrik, I _need_ you, just - “

“What was that?” Henrik shifts the vibrator again. “You need to use your words, remember? Now, say that again.”

“_Please_, Henrik,” Stellan begs, tugging at the ropes, “I need you so badly. I need you to make me scream until I can’t move any more.”

Smiling in satisfaction, he turns off the vibrator and takes it out, kissing Stellan gently. “Perfect. Now, since you made all those beautiful noises for me, I think it’s only fair for me to reward you.”


	15. Between

With every kiss and nip, she can feel Maren getting more frustrated. When she drops to her knees and licks her way up her thighs, Linnea says nothing, holding in any noise she wants to make and looking innocently at Maren.

“Come on, Linn,” she huffs, “how are you so calm? Do you need something extra to bring out that voice of yours?”

She shakes her head, clenching the armrests of the chair as Maren rests her head on the seat, a little too close. “It’s more fun to see you try without anything to help you. And anyway,” Linnea adds, jolting as Maren spreads her legs wider, “seeing you between my legs is so hot.”

“Oh, that does it.” Maren frowns, leaning closer. She noses Linnea between her legs, gently nipping and licking, tortuously slow. “How’s that?” She asks between strokes, “enough to send you screaming?”

Trying to stifle her moans, Linnea manages, “n-not yet. You’ll have to try harder than that, darling.”

“It’s on.” Maren smiles up at her. “We’ve got all night, and I’ll keep you up for hours if it means hearing you.”


	16. By Oneself

“How does it feel,” Henrik asks, flicking his tongue against Stellan’s collarbone, “to be perched on my thighs, all dainty and fragile? I’m not even touching you, and you’re already so needy.”

He doesn’t bother to answer, shifting and squirming on Henrik’s lap. Henrik keeps his hands firmly on Stellan’s hips, squeezing and trailing down to his thighs. “Keep going,” he urges, “you’re so cute, reducing yourself so such a mess.”

Burying his head in the comfort of Henrik’s neck, Stellan continues to grind down on his lap, feeling his legs tremble. “Why won’t you just touch me?” He feels fingers wander down his stomach. “It’s not like you’re doing something else.”

Hands tangle in his hair, pulling his head back until the dimmed ceiling lights flare in Stellan’s vision. “Why?” Henrik whispers, licking the shell of his ear, “well, where’s the fun in just touching you? You’re always pushing me away when I want to touch you. Now I can watch you, on my lap and begging for me to ruin you.

“Isn’t that right, darling?” Henrik chuckles. With every downward trail of his fingers, Stellan feels gentle paths of heat, arousing and awakening and not enough. He keens malcontentedly, reaching out a hand to wrap around himself.

No sooner does he manage to get in a few strokes, though, as Henrik slaps his hand away and traces his tongue over the nape of Stellan’s neck. “Oh no,” he chides, “no touching. I told you, you get off on me or not at all.”

“But - “

“And I know I don’t have to tie your hands together to keep you from touching yourself.” Henrik reaches up to touch Stellan’s chest. “You’ll listen to me, won’t you? You know the consequences if you don’t. Now,” he commands, “don’t stop. I know you can get off without me laying a hand on you.”


	17. Reservation

For somebody as quiet and reserved as Abel, Henrik finds that he has a hard time being subtle. So when Abel marches into his office, roughly pushes his tracing papers to the ground and pulls him into a kiss, he can’t say that he never expected that.

Hearing his fallen embroidery needles roll around the floor, Henrik pulls away for a moment to pick up his supplies and ignores Abel’s hands squeezing at his hips. “In a minute, okay?”

“You sent me ridiculously lewd text messages,” Abel starts.

“Yep.”

“Revealing photos,” he adds.

“Indeed I did.”

“And voice messages telling me what you’d do to me, all day, and now you’d like me to wait.”

He flashes Abel his most charming smile. “That’s right!”

He can sense that Abel’s getting frustrated, hands reaching up to tug at his hair and pull him into another kiss. “Listen,” he growls against his lips, “pin me down or hold me up, I don’t care. Just get inside me and make good on your claims.”

“Okay, okay.” Henrik gets up and heads for their bedroom, not bothering to look and see if Abel’s following. “Gee, you really need to learn to be patient.”


	18. Little Pet

It starts with the presentation of a little box, held in trembling hands. Stellan looks at the contents of the box, wondering just how to reply. Then he looks at Henrik’s face, flushed red and not making eye contact. “You’re not joking?”

“No,” Henrik mutters, “I’m not. Y-You don’t have to say yes, you really don’t, but - but this is something I’ve thought about for a while now.”

For a moment, he simply lets Henrik wait, before he inches closer to cup his cheek with one hand. “I’ll do it.”

He looks up. “Really?”

“Mmhmm.” Stellan traces his thumb over Henrik’s cheekbone. “I think I’ll have fun doing it too.”

With a slowly-growing smile, Henrik moves his face to kiss Stellan’s palm. “What’s your tolerance for pain, then?”

“Well,” he says slowly, “that depends on how badly you want me to call you ‘sir’.”

Lust, pure, unadulterated lust clouds Henrik’s gaze. “Oh, I’ve got just the thing planned.”

…

He waits, sitting on the chair in their bedroom exactly as Henrik instructs. The room’s a little too cold for his liking, but Stellan rubs his naked arms and reminds himself that Henrik will have him warm and wanting in just a few minutes.

And true to his word, Henrik pushes the door open and steps inside, the collar and leash swinging from his hand. He stops just mere centimetres from Stellan, taking out the collar. “Two things. First, you address me only as sir.”

Nodding, Stellan looks him in the eye. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Henrik smiles, pulling the collar taut and letting the tag glint in the dim light. “Now, what’s the safe word?”

For a moment, Stellan admires the collar. It’s pretty - pure white with little snowflakes embroidered onto the leather, a silver tag with his name engraved in looping cursive letters dangling down from it. “Fairy.”

Henrik leans into him, reaching hands over his head to fasten the collar around his neck. “Does this feel okay? Not too tight?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, sir.”

“If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Use the safe word if you want to stop.” He fastens the leash to the collar, tugging it a few times. “Don’t take anything you think you can’t handle.”

Stellan tilts his head, blinking at Henrik in mock innocence. And he nods, whining quietly in the way that he knows Henrik adores.

“Fuck,” Henrik breathes, pulling at the leash again, “you look so cute like this. My little pet, all ready for me to ruin you. Now,” he steps back, the leash still in his hand. “Can you help me undress, Stell?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get to that.” Quietly, he gets up from his seat and unbuttons Henrik’s shirt, pushing it off from his shoulders. Stellan makes quick work of his belt and pants, moving swiftly until Henrik lies as bare as him. 

“Good boy.” Henrik rewards him with a dismissive pat to the head, pulling the leash roughly to stifle an annoyed demand for more. “Now, before I touch you, I think there’s a little something we need to tend to. Get on your knees, please.” He pushes Stellan gently. “You know what to do.”

Batting his eyelashes, Stellan noses at Henrik’s thigh, hearing the quiet clink of his tag as he does so. “Of course, sir.”

For a moment, he feels almost nervous, the soft leather of the collar rubbing against his neck and Henrik still firmly gripping onto the leash. Another harsh yank nearly makes him fall over. “Don’t be shy, now.”

Quivering a little, Stellan leans forward again and blinks up at Henrik, a few times before dipping his head and taking Henrik into his mouth.

Completely in the nude and kneeling before Henrik, Stellan feels so utterly uncovered, his tongue and throat working around Henrik as the leash pulls him in even deeper. He hums, closing his eyes and pursing his lips. It’s easy to forget what they’ve planned for tonight, as Henrik moans above him as usual, but then Stellan hears the order: “that’s enough.”

He pulls away, licking his lips and gazing up at Henrik again. Stellan feels him pet his head again, this time reaching down to caress his cheeks and scratch behind his ears. “You’re so fucking pretty, Stell. I wish I’d taken a photo of you just now, sucking me off without a care in the world. That was amazing.”

Clearing his throat, he butts his head affectionately against Henrik’s leg, playing the part of the nonverbal pet immaculately. Stellan perks to attention when Henrik pulls at the leash again. “Do you know what I want you to do now?”

He shakes his head.

Henrik pinches his cheek. “Use your words, please.”

Stellan nods again and says, voice scratchy from his previous activities, “no, sir, I don’t.”

“I’ll tell you, then.” He crouches down to meet Stellan’s gaze and lifts his chin up. “I’m sure even a dumb little pet can understand this.” Henrik reaches out to hook one finger under his collar and pulls it until he leans in, close enough to touch noses with Stellan. “I’d like you to get on your hands and knees, if you please.”

Without a millisecond of hesitation, Stellan obeys and turns his back on Henrik. He braces himself on the floor, exposing his entrance towards him and awaiting further orders.

“Perfect.” He doesn’t look back, but Stellan can hear Henrik popping open a bottle of lubrication. “You’re so good for me, pet. Always listening to my every order.” Henrik’s index finger, slick and firm, begins to trace his entrance. “It’d be a crime not to reward you.”

Gasping softly at the first of Henrik’s fingers penetrating him, Stellan bows his head and moves his hips higher, pushing the finger deeper inside him. Behind him, Henrik laughs. “You’re enthusiastic, aren’t you? But don’t worry about it.” He quirks his finger upward, rippling a wave of pleasure through Stellan. “I’ll give you what you need.”


	19. To Listen

Of course Odinn sees him - he sees _everything_ Brandr does. And so he beckons at him, that crooked could-be-smile a little too teasing. 

But he’s never been very good at denying Odinn anything, and so Brandr makes his way towards him, swaying his hips a little and reaching out to boldly grab Odinn’s wrist. 

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” Brandr huffs, “you were all smirking and gesturing five seconds ago. What do you want to do to me?”

Odinn yanks his hand out of Brandr’s grip. “Nothing. Maybe I’ll have you in your room, your imagination running wild while I’m working. Get you to stop pestering me for a while.”

Brandr reaches for Odinn’s wrist again, pouting. “You wouldn’t do that, I’m sure. You’re too nice for that.” He runs a finger down his forearm, sighing. “Wow, I can’t handle all of these muscles. No wonder it’s so easy for you to pin me down.”

“You’re just jealous of me,” Odinn scoffs, pulling his wrist away. “You can’t do anything to me.”

“Well, I’m more aroused than jealous, if you know what I mean. I know you can scoop me up, toss me on the bed and hold me there, and I wouldn’t be able to stop you.” Brandr stretches to circle his hands around his wrist a third time.

This time, Odinn twists his hand and grabs Brandr, fingers tight and unforgiving around his wrist. “Why are you like this?” He demands, roughly pulling Brandr forward. “I pull myself away and you take that as a challenge, don’t you?”

“Well, duh.”

“Shut up.” Odinn presses his other hand to Brandr’s mouth, slipping two fingers inside. “Maybe, if you weren’t such an insufferable little shit, I wouldn’t have you sucking at my fingers, so pathetic and unruly.”

He moans around Odinn’s fingers, looking up to stare at the ceiling as he’s backed into a wall.

The sharp sting of a slap has Brandr looking down again, at Odinn’s dark eyes. “Look at me while I’m talking to you.”

He nods, and Odinn takes his fingers out. “Don’t just leave me hanging,” Brandr whines, “I need - I need - “

“Too bad.” He hears an unzipping noise as Odinn kicks him, bringing him to his knees. “I don’t care about what you need. Until I get what I want, I won’t be laying a hand on you. Understand?”

He mumbles his answer, ignoring the excitement welling up in him.


	20. Suspense

“Aww...”

Henrik’s voice is patronising.

“So, so adorable.” His hand stops just millimetres from Stellan’s throat. “I’ve barely touched you, but you’re already going insane. What if I leave you like this and go out for a drink with my friends?”

“Don’t,” he says.

Crowding in until Stellan can see the lustful flicker of his eyes, Henrik bites at his collarbone. “What was that?”

“Please don’t go,” he says, bowing his head slightly, “please, stay here with me.”

Stellan twitches as Henrik takes hold of his throat, gently squeezing at the sides. “You don’t get to decide, unfortunately. But I’ll stay.” He sneers, the twinkle in his eyes mocking. “I’ll stay for my needy little beast.”

Hands grabbing at the sheets, Stellan feels himself grow light-headed from Henrik’s grip.

“What?” He releases Stellan, lightly tapping him on the nose. “I decide to stay here and satisfy your needs, and I get silence?”

“T-Thank you.”

He laughs darkly, leaning back. The air around Stellan seems to halve in temperature. “’Thank you’ isn’t enough, silly! You’ll need more than that to show how grateful you are.” Henrik grabs Stellan’s arm and pulls him up. “Lie back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”

For a moment, Stellan remains unmoving, staring at him. Then Henrik pushes him to sit back against the headboard and guides his hand between his legs. “Well?” His voice grows just a tiny bit sharper. “You’ll have to get on with it, my love, or I won’t be laying a hand on you.”

Feeling his burning gaze on him, Stellan wraps a hand around himself and moves, stifling any noises that threaten to rip loose.

“That’s it.” Henrik feigns a slap at his thighs, chucking when he hears a gasp of anticipation. “Keep going, and I’ll touch you when I see fit.”


	21. In Chains

The shackle is smooth, snug against his ankle and weighing him down. Stellan hears the _clinks_ of the chain as he tries to walk across the room, dragging the heavy shackle behind him.

“Stay there.” Henrik tuts disapprovingly. “I never said you could move.”

In an instant, he falls still.

“Oh.” A sharp pinch to his chest makes Stellan jolt. “I expect you to respond, Stell. Forgot to tell you that.”

It’s amazing, how he can deliver earth-shaking speeches outside the bedroom, yet the moment he falls into _this_ persona his voice trembles. “Y-Yes.”

Another pinch. “Call me ‘sir’ when we’re alone like this, please.”

He trembles, standing and staring at the stark-white wall with Henrik completely out of sight. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” A sharp tug to the shackle has him stumbling. “Now, Stell, I’d like you to get on your hands and knees. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.” Stellan hears the chain rattle again as he slowly bends down, arms shaking slightly as he waits, feeling so utterly exposed. His cheeks burn as he feels one finger trace from the curve of his neck down his spine, teasing at his entrance.

But when a vibrator slides inside instead of Henrik, he can’t help huffing, rocking back just a little to show his displeasure.

A soft slap to the back of his thigh halts him in his tracks. “Don’t make me punish you,” Henrik threatens softly, “if you take this like a good little whore maybe I’ll consider entering you.”

Breath hitching as the vibrator switches on, Stellan quakes, vision blurring. “Yes, sir.”


	22. Private Playboy

His eyes are glazed, his chest is clamped and heaving and he’s shaking in his shoes, but Henrik’s never seen Stellan look so adorable before.

“Come on,” he teases, leaning back into his seat, “is that the best you can do?”

Rolling his eyes obliquely, Stellan lifts up one hand to touch the bunny ears clipped to his head. “I’m out here shaking my hips with a plug up my ass for you, and you’re still not satisfied?”

“Watch your words.” Henrik waves around the plug’s remote. “Or I’ll put this thing on full speed and have you on the floor.”

And he stops, shuddering again. Henrik snorts and sets down the remote, holding out his arms with a grin. “Come now, on my lap. Give me a little show and I’ll reward you.”

Obediently, Stellan drops in his lap, letting him wrap his arms around his waist. He grinds down filthily on Henrik’s thigh, overdramatically moaning and whining as his cheeks burn.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Resisting the urge to moan himself, Henrik’s hands slide down to Stellan’s hips and squeeze gently. “You’re so pretty, Stell, so cute when you’re moaning like this.”

“You bastard,” Stellan manages, still absorbed in his dirty little shimmy, “give me what I want or I’ll stop.”

“I don’t think so.” He takes Stellan around his fingers and listens to him gasp, a strangled half-cry, half-scream of pleasure and shock. “I’m in control here, don’t forget tha - “

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

The bedroom door swings open, and Stellan falls off Henrik’s lap in surprise. In the doorway, a bleary-eyed, messy-haired Harald stands, looking absolutely disturbed.

“It’s one in the morning, I have a test tomorrow, and I need to_ sleep_ without listening to my freaky brother get dominated by his equally freaky boyfriend!” He complains, "seriously, how long were you two going to get it on before you remembered that there’s someone else in the house?”

On the floor and tugging at his bunny ears in embarrassment, Stellan mutters, “sorry, Harald. We’ll, uh, quiet down, if that helps.”

Harald shoots them both another withering look. “If you don’t, I’ll lace your breakfast with laxatives.” He slams the door shut and storms back to his bedroom.”

Pulling Stellan into his lap again, Henrik reaches for a strip of cloth on his desk. “We’ve got to be responsible, Stell.” He ties the cloth around Stellan’s mouth, knotting it firmly. “So time to be quiet.”

Guided into moving again, Stellan makes a muffled noise of affirmation.


	23. On the Edge

He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that no matter how much he writhes, squirms or fights back, Henrik will always press him down, onto their bed, and smile sunnily before continuing what he was doing before.

It’s always been like this, ever since they’ve started doing this. But, even though he knows it’s futile, Stellan once again tries to squirm out of Henrik’s hold, feeling the fingers on his hip grow bruising.

“Hold still, please,” Henrik commands, nipping sharply at Stellan’s ear, “or it’ll be an hour before you get to get off.”

He slumps against the bed and lets Henrik have his way with him, slowly curling fingers around him, trailing his lips over his skin and scraping his teeth over all the spots that drive him mad with desire.

Ten minutes pass, then twenty, until Stellan’s heaving and sighing and Henrik’s still sluggishly edging him, tugging at his hair and nibbling at his neck, too slow for anything to happen.

Arching off the bed, Stellan whines displeasedly when his hips are pushed down again. “You asshole,” he sighs, “stop being such a tease and get in me already.”

“Oh, no.” Henrik gently slips a hand between his legs and brushes against him, too lightly and too slowly. “I want to kiss every inch of your body before I fuck you. Now, stop squirming, or I’ll tie you down.”

Breathing heavily, Stellan bares his throat and closes his eyes, waiting for the moment Henrik breaks.


	24. Stimulation

The chair is rigid, the soft strips of cloth digging into his skin as he squirms and huffs. If not for the cloth restraining him, Stellan would be moving away from the vibrator, held in place inside him.

His thighs are trembling, his chest heaving as he feels wave after wave of pleasure ripple through him. And when Henrik adjusts the vibrator to hit against _that _one spot, Stellan tosses his head back, staring at the dark ceiling and panting. 

“That’s it.” Henrik turns up the speed, twisting the device inside Stellan. “You’re doing great, Stell.”

The vibrator pushes in, in, in, breaching, quaking into his very core, and not long after Stellan finds himself seeing stars, spilling over his thighs and onto the chair with quiet gasps.

Henrik pushes him back gently, reaching for another band and tying his waist to the chair. “I love how your body loses control when you come,” he teases, pressing the vibrator deeper, “but you’re going to have to stay still for now, okay?”

Stellan twitches as it starts up again, working at him as he moans himself hoarse. He writhes against his binds, tears running down his face as he sees white again. “Henrik - “

“Hush.” He strokes the tears streaking down his cheeks, kissing him as he continues to ruthlessly hold the vibrator inside. “I know you can handle a few more. You’re my strong little beast, so tough inside.” Henrik kisses him, holds his shaking hand.

“Please, please, please,” Stellan mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. He whimpers and spills over again, digging his nails into Henrik’s hand. 

Leaving Stellan for a while to get a damp towel from the bathroom, Henrik returns and pulls out the dripping vibrator, switching it off. “I’m so proud of you.” He wipes away the mess between Stellan’s legs, trailing kisses in his wake. “You did so well today.”

The cloth ties fall to the floor and Stellan collapses into Henrik’s arms, burying his face in his chest. “I’m tired.”

“I’m sure you are.” Henrik helps him to his feet and scoops him up, kissing his forehead. “Let me take care of you now.”


	25. Pleading

“Pretty please?”

Giggling, Tino slips a hand under Eduard’s chin and slips it up. “You’ll need more than that to convince me, baby.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” Eduard does his best to look innocent, nestling on the floor on his knees. 

“Hmm…” He fiddles with the remote control idly, patting Eduard’s head without looking at him. “Not yet.” The plug speeds up just a little.

He squeaks, reaching out for Tino with trembling hands and managing only to grab the seat of his chair. “I’ll do anything, please, just - “

“Just what?” He turns a page in his book. “If you want me to do something, you need to use your words, silly.”

“_Touch me!_” Eduard almost yells, face flushed, “turn off this plug and pull it out, lay your hands on me and fuck me until I can’t walk for the next two days, please!”

Tino dog-ears his book and closes it, leaning down to hold Eduard’s face in his hands. “So that’s what you’d like me to do to you.”

“Yes!”

“I could,” Tino muses, “I could pin you to the floor and take you right now, but where’s the fun in that?” He winks, eyes sparkling far too sweetly for someone so mean-spirited. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Eduard whines, struggling to stand and stumbling into Tino’s lap. “I don’t care what you make me do, please touch me!”

“That’s a good boy.” Tino kisses his neck, smiling brightly. “Time for your reward, dear!”


	26. Switch

Both of them are shaking, hands roaming all over each others’ bodies as Stellan leans down again to bite Henrik’s neck. He can’t think of anything witty to say, unlike when Henrik takes control, so he continues leaving marks down his neck in silence.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Henrik smirks, reaching up to run a finger down his spine.

He sucks at Henrik’s neck, silencing his teasing with a moan. “I’m not mute, idiot,” Stellan mutters against him, “it’s just that I’d rather have my actions arouse you, not my words.” He accentuates his sentence with a kiss to the new mark.

Henrik laughs and tilts his head back more. “Bold words for a writer.”

Stellan moves down to his chest, licking his sternum and nibbling lower, down to his navel. “I prefer to separate my role as a writer from my role as your lover.”

Squeezing Stellan’s hips as he slides a finger inside him, Henrik says, “very eloquent of you. Now, what if I were to flip you over, pin you to the bed and talk my way into you?”

“You could.” Stellan adds another finger and drinks in Henrik’s pleasured groan. “But I won’t let you.” He kisses Henrik, sighing against his lips, “I’m in charge tonight.”


	27. Sheath

His lips brush over his forehead, his lips, down to his neck, right over his heart, lower, lower, kissing his stomach, his thighs, until Henrik flicks his tongue against him, opening him with his lips and fingers.

Underneath him, Stellan digs his ankles into Henrik’s back, gasping as Henrik plunges deeper. Whatever he’s trying to say gets cut off as the heat between his legs disappears and he moans loudly. “What - “

“I’m here.” Henrik kisses him, twining their tongues together expertly as Stellan holds onto him for dear life. “I love you so damn much,” he breathes into his mouth, “if only we could do this all night.”

Stellan reaches between Henrik’s legs, trying to wrap his fingers around him, only for Henrik to gently pull his hand away and press it to the bed. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to be making you feel good.” He kisses his sternum again. “I know you had a rough day at work today, so just lie back and enjoy it.”

As Henrik slides slick fingers inside him, curling and scissoring just the way he likes it, Stellan arches his back and buries his face in the crook of his neck, feeling white-hot pleasure course through him. “Yes, please, right there.”

Henrik pecks him on the forehead, pulling his fingers out and sitting up for a moment. “I’m going in, okay?”

As Henrik enters him, pushing in so deeply that their hips touch, Stellan wonders just how he got so lucky.


	28. Pleasured Prelude

His violin competition is an hour away, but his case is abandoned at the door and his suit strewn across the floor, ignored in favour of some quick pleasure for good luck.

“Don’t be so rough,” Stellan groans, grabbing a handful of Henrik’s ratty T-shirt and squeezing it as Henrik bites his neck. “There can’t be any marks.”

“Oh, really?” Henrik kisses the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, biting down hard and feeling Stellan jolt under him. “What will the judges say when they see all these hickeys on your neck? I’ll say, they’ll think you’re a diligent violinist, practicing all the time.” He grins. “They won’t suspect a thing.”

Stellan twists his hand into Henrik’s shirt again, gasping as Henrik snakes a cold hand up his shirt and pinches his chest. “That’s not what I meant, moron. I mean, the entire performance I’ll be thinking about you, how you marked me up, and I’ll end up too aroused to play.”

Henrik leans away, admiring the purple blotches adorning Stellan’s porcelain skin. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to stop touching you. After all, you need to focus on your competition.”

“No, stupid.” He wriggles against the wall, feeling achingly needy with the tent between his legs. “Finish me off quickly and let me go to my competition practically glowing.”

He kneads Stellan’s thigh, too close to where he wants to be touched most. “What’s the magic word?”

Gritting his teeth, Stellan bucks up into Henrik’s fingers. “Please.”

“Perfect.” Slipping one hand down Stellan’s pants, Henrik pecks him on the lips and starting moving. “Here’s my good luck wish for your competition.”


	29. Punishment

“Al,” Ling clamours, grabbing Alfred’s wrist, “Al, come on!”

Eyes not leaving the screen of his laptop, Alfred shakes Ling off. “What is it, darling?”

She does her best to make puppy-dog eyes, tugging at his collar this time. “I wanna play. Can you play with me, please?”

“Not now, Ling.” Alfred takes hold of her wrist and pulls it away from my sleeve. “I’m really busy with work. When I’m finished, then we can play. I promise.”

“But I don’t want to play later.” Ling tries to close Alfred’s laptop, squeaking in surprise when he slaps her hand away. “I want to play now.”

Alfred sighs, turning his chair to hold her chin and make eye contact. “Don’t give me your whiny voice, young lady.”

“If you play with me, I won’t be whiny!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Hey, talking back isn’t cool. You know what’ll happen if you talk back, right?”

Ling squirms in his grip, rolling her eyes as she snaps, “I don’t give a shit.”

“What was that?”

“I don’t give a shit,” Ling repeats, “I don’t give a fucking shit that you don’t like it when I talk back.”

His eyes narrow and he gets up from his desk, hand going down to grab Ling’s wrist. “Oh, that’s it. First you whine, then you try and be sassy, and now you’re cussing me out?” Alfred squeezes her wrist. “I can’t let that slide.”

Trying to break free from his grip, she pouts. “You can’t?”

A gentle pinch on the cheek makes her jump. “I thought I trained you to be better than this. Now.” Alfred walks to sit on their bed, gesturing for Ling to follow. “Get over my lap. We agreed on five spanks per cuss word, didn’t we? So that’s twenty of them, plus two more for whining and talking back.”

Ignoring the sudden downwards rush of blood, Ling nods quietly and lays down over Alfred’s lap, stomach-down.

“This’ll teach you to behave.” Alfred slips a hand up her skirt, grinning as her breath hitches. “Now, you better start counting.”


	30. The Landlady

“What do you think people will say if they see us like this?”

Ignoring the hard press of his favourite novel digging into his back, Stellan moves back against the desk even more to let Henrik nuzzle his neck. “I don’t know,” he whispers, “maybe I’ll pick up this lovely book and say we’re re-enacting a scene in it.”

“Oh, of course.” Henrik pulls the book out from under Stellan and flips to the first page. “We’ll be acting out ‘The Landlady’ in this private room away from prying eyes.”

He rolls his eyes and snatches the book away from Henrik. “Considering what happens in ‘The Landlady’, I don’t think anyone would want to see it acted out.”

“Really?” Henrik pulls at Stellan’s tie, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his way down to his heart. “What’s it about?”

“Well, a boy goes to Bath and stays at a suspicious-looking bed-and-breakfast, where a rather psychotic taxidermist lives.” He shivers as Henrik pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor. “He ends up poisoned by cyanide and taxidermied.”

He starts unzipping Stellan’s pants, reaching down and probing with cold fingers. “Well, we can try. Instead of mounting you up on a wall, I’ll just pin you down on this desk. And instead of swallowing cyanide…” He leans in close, biting Stellan’s ear as he whispers, “you can swallow something else of mine.”

And as Stellan falls to his knees and takes Henrik into his mouth, he wonders if a rewriting of “The Landlady” would be insulting to Mr. Dahl’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book mentioned was "Kiss Kiss", a compilation of short stories written by Roald Dahl, and the story mentioned was "The Landlady".


	31. Every Part Of You

With how Henrik runs his hands over every inch of his skin, it doesn’t take long for him to find the one spot that makes his back arch and moans escape him.

“Does that feel good?” Henrik presses his thumb down over the flat of Stellan’s palm, watching him flex his fingers and sigh.

He nods, desperately wrapping fingers around Henrik’s fingers and squeezing tightly. “Please don’t let go.”

“Say,” Henrik remarks as he brings Stellan’s hand to his lips and kisses the spot, “I didn’t know you were so sensitive there.” He presses the point of his tongue against it and Stellan groans, embarrassingly loud. “Well, not so much that it could ruin you like this.”

Face flushed and achingly aroused, Stellan lets Henrik bite at his wrist and suck on his fingers. Every brush over his palm makes him buck his hips up, until Henrik uses his other hand to push him down.

“Enough of that.” He pins Stellan’s hand down next to his head and laces fingers with the other. “I hope that’s not the only spot that’ll make you react like this.”

Stellan looks up at Henrik, all smiles and brightness. “Of course it’s not.”

He drags one hand down, entering Stellan with two fingers, curling and twisting. “If I recall, there’s one bit right inside you that’ll make you scream.” Henrik flexes his wrist and hits his very core, eliciting a shocked moan. “And I think that’s it!”

Henrik continues hitting that spot as many times as he can with his fingers, raining down kisses on Stellan’s face as he gasps and cries out before tumbling out of control, all over his fingers.

“You know every bit of me.” Stellan curls up in Henrik’s embrace, giddy and blissed. “No wonder we always last so long.”

“Well,” Henrik chortles, tangling his legs together with Stellan, “I’ve had plenty of time to know you.”


	32. Trick

As the advisor of Norjon, Henrik knows that Stellan always has a few tricks up his sleeve - whether it’s sneaking Harald some cakes from the kitchens, helping Tino convince his way into Berwald’s chambers or planning a siege that can completely wipe out an entire duchy, he knows how to get things done.

So when he walks into the library to see his lover wearing his expensive tunic usually reserved for parties, the one that hugs his every curve and drops down to expose his immaculate neck, it’s clear that Stellan’s up to something.

When Stellan closes his book and sets it down on his table, he flashes a silver bangle in the light, making the stone-smooth skin of his slender wrist stand out even more. “Good afternoon, Sir Dansen.”

Deciding to play along, Henrik replies jovially, “good afternoon, Sir Dahl. What are you doing in such extravagant clothing?”

“It’s simple, really.” He leans back in his chair, legs falling apart just slightly. “I would like to impress the general. I hear he likes it when the advisor dresses like this.”

Henrik takes one step into the library, feeling a twinge of desire when Stellan immediately straightens up to look at him. “Let me tell you something about the general. You ought not to dress like that when he has training soon, or all he’ll be able to think about is ripping that tunic off of you.”

Stellan hitches up the skirt of his tunic, exposing pristinely pale thighs that Henrik so wishes to run his hands over. “Is that so? I doubt the great general of Norjon has so little self-control.”

Finally closing the distance between him and Stellan and sliding his hands up his skirt, Henrik grins. “Are you sure about that?”


	33. In A Closet

“Good thing we’re doing this in my closet.” Yong Soo winks and slides a hand up Harald’s shirt. “Your closet is tiny and cramped with sweaters and stuff.”

He shudders at Yong Soo’s cold fingers and reaches to grab a jacket sleeve. “Like this fancy walk-in closet is much better.”

“Makes it easier to do stuff like this, that’s for sure.” He pokes at Harald’s belly, kisses him again and tangles their tongues together messily. When he pulls away, he adds, “now that I think about it, we’ve fucked in a lot of closets.”

Harald pants, feeling himself sliding down against the slick mirror he’s leaning against. “The hell do you mean?”

Yong Soo sucks on his fingers, making sure to pull away with a pop every time he moves on to the next one. “I mean, we’ve done it in the janitor’s closet at school, the supply closet that one Model UN meeting, even a dressing room one time!”

Thinking of how they got banned from one of the most popular boutiques in town, Harald turns red. “Oh, please don’t remind me. The poor shopkeeper’s face was bright red when she saw you halfway down my throat.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that now.” Yong Soo reaches for Harald’s pants, slipping his hands inside and wrapping slick fingers around him. “Hyung knows better than to get anywhere near my closet, after all.”

Groaning as he moves his hand up and down, Harald bucks his hips forward. “Because of your fancy clothes, or because this is where you prefer to get laid?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure.” Yong Soo leans forward to peck Harald on the lips. “Why not both?”


	34. Quietly

It’s hard to not be vocal when Henrik’s keeping his legs apart, nibbling little pink marks on his neck while teasing him. Stellan does his best not to fall off Henrik’s lap and squirms, letting out a breathy whine as Henrik taunts him with fingers circling him.

“Don’t make a sound,” Henrik whispers, “what would the lovely shopkeeper say if she saw us doing this?”

Biting his lips, Stellan allows Henrik to wrap fingers around him, rocking back-and-forth against his hand with quiet breaths. His other hand goes to Stellan’s mouth, pressing against him and keeping him from voicing out any more of his need.

Henrik pumps faster, squeezing and tugging, and begins to bite at Stellan’s neck. He shows no mercy, swiftly dragging Stellan into floating adrift in the sea of lust and snuffing out the sparks of his own desire. 

Stellan moans, muffled by the clasp of Henrik’s palm against his mouth. His thighs begin to quaver as he reaches his limit, arching his back and - 

“I think that’s enough.” Henrik pulls his hands away and nudges Stellan off his lap, prompting him to dress up again. “We’ll finish when we get home, which should be about, say, an hour or so.”

“But - “

“No worries, darling.” He traces the outline of Stellan’s lips, curved into the beginnings of a pout. “I’ll give you what you want, as long as you earn it.”

Still trembling, Stellan gives Henrik his coldest look.

“Don’t pout.” Henrik pinches his cheek playfully. “Be good, that’s all I ask. Got it?”

He’s no other choice. As Henrik pushes the curtain open and leads him out of the fitting room, Stellan quietly replies, “got it.”


	35. Kneel

Until meeting Henrik, Abel has never had to doubt his own strength.

But it’s clear that he’s finally met his match, in the form of his jaunty boyfriend who never hesitates to challenge his power with barbed words and vicious kisses. And tonight, Abel once again finds himself locked in battle with Henrik, both of them thrown together in a writhing mix of lips and limbs as they kiss, bite and jostle to be on top.

First it’s Henrik, pinning him to the bed with a triumphant grin and a peck to the nose, then him, pushing Henrik’s face into a pillow as he straddles his hips. They participate in the deadly exchange for a few more rounds, neither of them willing to yield to the other. 

It’s not until they somehow end up falling off the bed, landing on the floor with awkward grunts of pain and surprise, do they continue to fight. Against the wall, their desk, their chair, even the door, they grapple. Abel nearly falls when Henrik lands an impressive bite to his neck, Henrik just barely avoids losing their little joust as Abel trails kisses down his chest. But somehow, by some miracle, perhaps, Abel, after pressing his lips to Henrik’s, manages to have him defeated.

The taste of victory is sweet. “On your knees,” Abel commands.

Henrik drops down with no resistance, his lips still curved in a coy smile. “As you wish.”

Abel twines his fingers in Henrik’s wild locks, tossed and tumbled to be even messier after their little clash. “Too bad you lost,” he mocks, “but I guess I’m too strong for you.”

Kissing the insides of his thighs with surprising gentleness, Henrik replies, “that was just round one. Enjoy your title as winner while you can.”


	36. Awaiting

From her two years of dating Eva, Madeline has learned that her girlfriend is three things - an expert chocolatier, a hopeless romantic and a major tease.

Such is the case when she has to watch Eva melodramatically arch in front of her on the bed, airily pushing up her skirt to expose pristine thighs and a glimpse of white satin. Seated against the headboard, Madeline tries to focus on her book and block out Eva's flamboyant moans. "What are you doing, cheri?"

Eva rolls onto her stomach and begins tugging at the too-low collar of her blouse. "Foreplay."

Once again trying to avert her eyes from the increasingly provoking sight that is Eva flaunting her chest (something that she enjoys teasing her about far too much), Madeline shifts slightly and tries to suppress her emotions. "It's not working," she lies.

Tugging her blouse off to expose lacy undergarments (Madeline nearly tears a page off her book), Eva crawls towards Madeline and shamelessly sticks a hand up her skirt. "Yes, it is."

Madeline tries to back away from Eva's fingers, probing and pinching in all the right spots. Her grip on her book tightens and she closes it before she can damage it, tossing it onto her bedside table and spreading her legs wider. "Are you just going to poke me until I can't take it any more?"

"I might." Pulling away Madeline's undergarments (only then does she realise they're soaking), Eva pinches her again with an innocent smile. "But you know you can't do any of that without my permission, right?"

Pretending to sigh in disappointment, Madeline twitches slightly under Eva's merciless fingers. "Unfortunately."

"Well, maybe I'll be nice tonight." Eva leans in to quickly peck her on the lips, lurching away before Madeline can initiate more. "No promises, though."


	37. Once In A Blue Moon

There are times when Henrik regrets (just a little, though) flirting so openly when Stellan's with him. Of course, Stellan knows that he'd never dream of being with anyone but him, but sometimes the results of his "accidental" infidelity are too rewarding for him to always play the loyal, dedicated lover.

Such is the case after he returns home after meeting up with Tino and Berwald, making sure to wrap an arm around Tino and make countless obscene gestures his way, tossing innuendo after innuendo at his friend. And all the while, Stellan's expression grows darker and darker, until his grip on Henrik's hand grows nearly crushing.

It's adorable.

Back at home, in the security of his bedroom, Henrik stifles laughing as he lies back, letting Stellan push his head back and kiss him with a rarely-seen ferocity. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, his best attempt at strength, and Henrik adores it.

The way Stellan nips his way down his neck, biting sharply and leaving marks that are sure to twinge in pain every time he brushes over them, is nearly enough to drive him over the edge. "You should've been talking to me like that, not Tino."

Henrik tosses his head back further, wincing at the prick of teeth at the hollow of his throat. "Oh, are you jealous?"

Stellan dips his head to scrape his teeth down his chest. "I'm going to remind you who exactly you belong to."

"Go ahead." 

He doesn't mind the sweet torment of Stellan's envy, a clear punishment in his eyes and a lovely prize in Henrik's. He doesn't mind letting his possessive little pixie take over just for tonight, allowing himself to be claimed as Stellan does once in a blue moon. And Henrik certainly doesn't mind his partner's bold declarations of ownership, treasuring Stellan's rare jealousy before it fades away.

"Mine," Stellan whispers, biting viciously at Henrik's hips, "only mine."

Smiling and feeling another bruise emerging, Henrik agrees, "I'm all yours, darling."


	38. On The Run

The adrenaline of a good chase, even when he's not the one chasing, was always, is always and will always be a sweet sensation. 

Careful not to trample on twigs and leaping over logs, Stellan ducks under a branch, determined not to end up captured. Again, he feels Henrik closing in on him, and whirls around, lightning-quick, to kick him in the shins. As Stellan darts away again, he hears Henrik's laughter, wild and dangerous, promising him worthy compensation lest he end up in his clutches.

Evading Henrik is no easy task, despite how it may seem at first. Far stronger and nearly as fast, Henrik catches up to him in next to no time. This time, as he gives in to his traitorous lust, Stellan begins to lag behind and allows Henrik to grab him round the waist and spin him so that they're face-to-face.

"What a pretty little thing," Henrik observes, one hand creeping up to brush over Stellan's cheek, "who knew the forest had such bounties?"

Playing the untamed beast perfectly, Stellan writhes in Henrik's grip, glaring with glacial rage. "Unhand me," he demands, managing only to further entangle himself in Henrik's lovely trap. 

Laughing again, darkly and starkly different from his usual laughter, Henrik tightens his iron grip on him and pushes him against a nearby tree, wasting no time in sliding one hand downwards, deftly pushing away clothing and resistance to press one finger against Stellan. "You're so tight."

It doesn't hurt (their preparing before the little scene has made sure of that), but still he arches, pretending to groan in pain. Stellan's act urges Henrik to push the finger in deeper, kissing him gently as he does. The bizarre juxtaposition of it all only makes him want Henrik more.

When they part, gasping and clinging on to each other, Henrik pushes in a second finger, gazing at Stellan and silently asking for permission. Too far gone to deny him, he nods and groans again at the feeling of Henrik entering him again. 

Surely, it's trust that allows Henrik to be so rough with him, and Stellan finds himself yielding, easily and familiarly, to his and Henrik's lust, trusting him to bring them both pleasure that they'll never forget.


	39. Left Hanging

He waits.

Darkness clouding his vision, hearing nought but his own breathing and the quiet hum of their air conditioner, Stellan waits. He stares upwards at where the ceiling may be, feeling smooth satin against his eyes, and waits.

If patience is a virtue, Stellan would call himself a saint. His awaiting, his tolerance for Henrik's ruthless temptation is, in his opinion, the pinnacle of patience. Bound to a chair and left to dwell in his own desires, still he waits.

Every ounce of restraint is tossed away when Henrik touches him again, a mere whisper between his legs. Stellan arches up for more, and, despite still having the dignity not to beg, pushes against Henrik's fingers, running up and down his inner thighs, before they disappear again.

Dropping down on his chair, Stellan almost screams in frustration. He turns his head, trying to figure out where his tormentor is, but to no avail. Behind him, before he can realise his presence, Henrik kisses the nape of his neck, gifting him with just a gentle score of his teeth before stepping back. The sudden heat gives way to a chill that's nearly agonising.

They play this game of cat-and-mouse again and again, Henrik dropping a kiss to the hips, a brush to the chest, fleeting and far too little to satisfy him. All the while, his skin pleading for more of Henrik's now-limited touch, Stellan holds his tongue.

But then Henrik crawls between his legs and kisses him, so quickly that he doesn't notice it at first, until the kisses grow intense and it feels as though electricity is coursing through his lower half. And finally, perhaps to Henrik's delight, Stellan breaks, twinging and leaking. "Please," he manages, heaving with desire, "please, please, just fuck me."

The warmth around him disappears and Henrik asks, voice dripping with ridicule, "what makes you think you deserve that?"

There is no reply he can think of for Henrik's answer. But all the same, Henrik unties the ropes binding him and guides him, still unseeing and stumbling needily, to lie down on their bed. "Personally, I think you could've begged a little more." He kisses him still, as they fall into their usual tangle of want and fervour. "But I feel kind of sorry for you, so I'll fuck you anyway."

Between kisses and nips, Stellan barely manages a wrecked, "thank you."


	40. Mirror Mirror

Before his eyes, Stellan only gets a glimpse of the floor before fingers hook under his chin and guide his eyes to his image again. Behind him, Henrik murmurs warningly, “eyes on the mirror, please.”

He accedes quietly and stares at himself in the mirror, wide-eyed and lips pressed in a thin line. Henrik sucks another mark at the nape of his neck, ensuring that the mottled patch of maroon will be visible to anyone who bothered to look. The nips fall from his neck down to the slope of his spine, every little flash of pain a reminder of Henrik's desire.

Fingers tease between his legs as Henrik kisses his way back up to Stellan's neck, pulling his head back for another quite literally breathtaking kiss. The fingers continue to probe. Henrik's fingers tease on until Stellan's already-dubiously rigid stance melts away and his legs fall apart.

"Wider, darling." He doesn't stop, his fingers and his hands and his mouth tormenting all at the same time. Stellan hesitates for a moment, and as punishment Henrik suddenly pauses in his advances. "I said wider."

Eyes fixed on himself, Stellan braces his hands on both sides of their tall bedroom mirror and spreads his legs even more, watching as his face contorts in unsolicited pleasure. Henrik's next kiss tastes of approval of his complacency, and his hand moves to nudge inside him. In front of them, the mirror-glass fogs with Stellan's moans.

An unexpected twist of Henrik's fingers, slick and rapid and jarringly pleasurable, make him squeeze his eyes shut. Then they quirk upwards, sending another wave of craving through him. "What did I say?"

"Eyes on the mirror," Stellan repeats breathlessly, swaying back against Henrik's fingers.

"That's right." Henrik guides him to stare at himself again, panting and squirming with half-open eyes. "Now, don't let me catch you looking away again."


End file.
